


I Am Become Death

by SarahJeanne



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJeanne/pseuds/SarahJeanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lilley, you make a nice combat casualty."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Become Death

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the GK remix challenge with the Modest Mouse song "Dig Your Grave" as the prompt. Deals with death as a concept, including a scene relating to military notification of a service member's death. However, there is no actual death.  
> Many thanks to salvadore_hart for the beta!

Lilley jogged around the outskirts of Mathilda. The sun was just rising so the desert heat hadn't kicked in yet. It was as close to comfortable as it got. There were some other guys out running too--Gabe, Walt, and Evan were clustered a little ways ahead of him and he could hear Ray talking to someone in between breaths behind him. Rudy was in a field with a handful of guys from various units doing Tai Chi.

Ray fell quiet and Lilley heard boots hitting the ground faster, then falling in step with him. When he looked to the side the LT was right there, jogging in PT gear and combat boots. "How's it going, Lilley?" the LT asked.

"I'm good, sir. Enjoying the desert air and all that."

The LT twisted his head and looked him in the eye even as they ran. "You were in Afghanistan, weren’t you?"

"Yes sir, but not with Recon."

"You're in good company in that respect."

"Yes, sir."

They ran in silence for a minute. The air heated with the rising sun.

The LT took in a deeper breath than normal, and Lilley looked over at him. "I've got a job for you during the live-fire exercise today."

"Sir?"

"I need a combat casualty. And specifically, we need to be prepared for a driver to go down."

"You want me to stop driving?"

"I want you to get hit with a kill shot. I want you to stop everything."

Lilley turned his head away from the LT, he looked down at the sand disappearing under his feet. "When do you want this to happen?"

"Choose your moment. I'd like this to be as real as possible. It's unavoidable that I know it's coming, but I won’t know exactly when. No one else should know anything at all--this is practice for all of us."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you, corporal."

"No problem, sir."

The LT ran up to Gabe's group and inserted himself between Gabe and Walt. Lilley felt a smile spread across his face as he watched the LT chatting with the guys in front of him.

He managed to grab a few minutes to himself in the latrine before the mission. He gingerly balanced his camera on what could barely be called a shelf and perched on top of the toilet to figure out the best way to die. He tried slumping over about fifteen different ways, getting slammed into the back of his seat, and various groans versus silent deaths. He played back the footage and chose the best one, then practiced until it was flawless.

\---

"Lilley, will you maintain your fucking dispersion? You get any further up Colbert's ass and you're going to have to buy him dinner."

"Sorry, sarg." Lilly eased up on the gas and channeled his adrenaline into gripping the steering wheel tighter.

The radio crackled again. Person barely got out the words "enemy contact" before Espera, Christopher, and Hasser started firing. A helicopter buzzed overhead, dropping a missile on one of the T-55s. The explosion covered up the sounds of rifle fire.

All of a sudden he didn't want to die, he didn't even want to drive. Barreling through the desert with guns firing and missiles exploding, death seemed possible and it didn't feel like practice. He wanted to drop the wheel and grab his weapon and fight back.

But it was his job to drive his team through it, and theirs to take out the bad guys so he didn't get hit. They were about to fail and he was the only one who knew it.

There was another explosion and Lilley took the offered opportunity. He fell to the left, pulling the Humvee with him, just in case Rudy wasn't paying attention, before letting his arms fall to his sides, and ceasing to apply any pressure to the gas pedal.

"Lilley, what the f- Lilley. Lilley," Espera yelled. Lilley was trapped by death, silent and unable to do anything to reduce the confusion. He felt Espera on top of him and heard him on the radio simultaneously. "Bravo Two One, man down! Echo Four Lima is down."

Down.

"Grab the wheel," Espera said right into his ear.

It felt like Christopher, Leon, and Hasser all tried to get their hands on the wheel at once. Somebody's elbow connected with his cheek, and he almost fell out of the vehicle. His foot was kicked off the gas, someone hauled him back by the collar of his blouse, and he felt the Humvee veer back to the right.

Everyone was yelling for the corpsman. They sounded like they were miles away. Espera's voice cut through, though even he sounded tinny, like he was on the radio. "Don't waste the morphine, Doc. My boy's been smoked."

Not even worth trying to save.

He kept his eyes closed as he heard everyone gathering around him. Bravo-2 minus one.

"How's it feel, motherfucker?" Garza asked, his voice rising above the chatter. "How's it feel to be fucking dead?"

"Bro, it feels sad. I feel very alone." Fucking around in the latrine seemed like ages ago. "And also, I gotta take a shit." It was enough to make a joke of it.

"Lilley," the LT said, "you make a nice combat casualty. Congrats."

Lilley acknowledged him with a nod of his head. As soon as he was out of sight, he shook his shoulders, trying to get those words off of him. It was the scariest compliment he'd ever received.

After lunch, he ducked behind a tent and squinted against the sun so he could see the screen of his camera. He went through the footage and deleted each of his practice deaths one by one.

\---

Lilley stands on the sidewalk across from his house. It's a beautiful day, sun shining, warm without being hot, and a breeze that brings the salty smell of the ocean with it. The neighbor's kids should be playing in the backyard making lots of noise, but everything is quiet, muffled, like he's under water. He can't even hear the sedan that pulls up in front of his house. Two Marines in dress uniforms climb out, still soundless. They walk up the brick path to the front door; everyone that knows them knows to use the door on the side of the house that goes into the kitchen. Lilley tries to walk up to them, get in front of them so he can see their faces, figure out if he knows them. But when he tries to take a step forward, he can't move--he's glued in place. One of the Marines rings the bell. They step back in perfect sync and fold their hands in front of them.

Kirsten answers the door and freezes for a moment, her hand still on the doorknob. She doesn't open the screen door or close the wooden one. She turns quickly, ponytail hitting the side of her face as she does, and disappears back into the house. One of the Marines steps forward. He knocks on the metal of the screen door and looks at his partner as he speaks, then they both walk into the house.

Lilley tries to run after them. "No," he yells toward the house when he can't move. "I'm right here."

Kirsten's scream of despair and rage breaks through the silence.

Lilley woke up panting.

He was sandwiched between a pile of boxes and Christopher. There was air going in and out of his lungs, sweat dripping down his face. His heart was beating so fast and hard that he could feel it in his chest. But it was beating. He got up and grabbed his weapon from where it was propped next to him. He curled himself around it like some fucked-up substitute for a security blanket and tried to fall back asleep.

\---

 _Dusk was short in the desert. There was next to nothing to get in the way of the sun, just an expanse of sand and the curve of the earth. The sun crawled closer to the horizon getting bigger and bigger; then suddenly it went out. Bright burning ball of light to pitch black in the blink of an eye._


End file.
